


couch potatoes

by tisapear



Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daniel is 17 and Sean and Lyla are 24, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, No powers & game events never happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26393680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisapear/pseuds/tisapear
Summary: Daniel helps Sean and Lyla move into their new place, except when Lyla goes out to get them lunch, unpacking isn't exactly the only thing getting done.
Relationships: Daniel Diaz/Sean Diaz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	couch potatoes

Daniel's on him the moment Lyla pulls out of the parking lot. 

He dashes away from the window, sunbeam-highlights tailing him, and barrels Sean over; Sean flopping back on the couch, little brother on top of him, hands braced on his chest and knees bracketing him in. Daniel's smiling down at him, temptation-invitation, and his hands are already burrowing under Sean's t-shirt, forbidden-lands exploration about to abound. Sean catches his wrists. 

"Dude, _no._ Lyla will be back any moment." 

Daniel's looking amused, now, experimentally wriggles his wrists and only raises his eyebrows up high when Sean tightens his grip. 

"Chill, man. I sent her to this new vegan place downtown, we got at least fourty minutes, more if the traffic's bad. Guess your lil' bro's _ridiculous vegan tic_ has its pros after all, huh?" 

At Sean's continued refusal to release his hands, Daniel decides that he doesn't necessarily need them as tools of persuasion. Instead he leans down, starts nosing at Sean's cheek, leaves little licks and kisses all over his throat and exposed collarbone and behind his ear—big brother's absolute weak spot, but Daniel would never bring that up since Sean might get embarrassed and declare it a no-touch zone, which would be a damn shame, considering it's Daniel's favorite place to exploit when Sean needs some extra convincing. 

Like right now.

"C'mon bro, you know you wanna. We haven't gotten any alone time lately, what with everything that's been going on."

That much is true, at least. Between Sean's new job and the move and Daniel's increasing sculpturing lessons—putting the finishing touches on his piece for a national competition, one Sean has no doubt Daniel's gonna win, just like he has the past two years—there hasn't been much time for _brother bonding_ , as their dad likes to call it. 

Doubtful he'd be as approving of Daniel constantly hanging out with Sean if he knew about the exact ongoings of their _alone time_.

_"I think it's great that you're still close, and that you aren't ashamed of spending so much time with your little brother. Family's the most important thing, and you know how much Daniel looks up to you."_

Yeah, sure Sean does. Especially when Daniel's blowing him, _looking up to him_ , smile teasing, mouth stretched wide and lips so pink around Sean's dick, eyelashes dipped low, a weak play at innocence that fools no one but still has Sean hard in five seconds flat. Like he's a virgin again, like he hasn't been exclusively fucking his kid brother for a year and a half.

Hands under his waistband, shit, fuck, shouldn't have gotten distracted. Has to hold back a moan, can't give Daniel the satisfaction. Daniel, who's looking all innocent and wide-eyed, lashes fluttering, _who, me?_ But he's got one tooth sunken into his lip, is so obviously amused, Sean wants to kick him off and onto the floor just to see how he'd react. 

Except Daniel's a little shit that always gets what he wants, and what he wants is _Sean_ , god knows why, and Sean, for all his protests, has never been able to deny Daniel anything. Sure, he tries, plays at the possibility of saying no one day, and it's not like he's gonna _stop_ with that, but it's so easy caving in when baby bro's looking at him with all that childhood-worship and unrelenting devotion only a little brother utterly in love with his big brother could conjure up.

So he turns his eyes heavenward, _lord help him_ , buries his fingers in Daniel's unruly locks. Exhales, loud and exaggerated, can already taste Daniel's smirk against his mouth because the little shit knows he's won. Theirs is a rehearsed play, after all.

"Fine," he breathes out, glides his finger down Daniel's cheek, cups his chin. "But we gotta make it quick."

* * *

They end up christening the couch. And it's a damn close call, too. Daniel's barely put on his shirt by the time they hear keys turn in the lock, and he hastily fumbles for his shorts while Sean's fastening his belt. They have about half a second to look as unassuming as possible before Lyla's opening the door, two paper take-out bags in one hand, her keys with the ridiculous robot power bear charm Daniel's made for her twenty-second birthday in the other. She closes the door, lets out an exaggerated sigh as she places her keys in the designated bowl on the side table. 

"It's so freaking hot," she complains, fans herself with her free hand while she toes off her shoes. Sean sends Daniel a quick look, motions at his hair, and Daniel hurries to arrange his own so it doesn't look quite as fucked-out. 

At least the late July heat will be a good cover-up for their flushed faces and sweaty skin, Sean thinks. 

When Lyla enters the room, she smiles at them, then freezes in her steps and eyes them suspiciously, face shuttered down into a carefully blank mask. For one horrible, terrible eternity-moment Sean's convinced that she _knows_ —that she knows and is gonna tell his dad and his dad's gonna tell the police because Sean _should_ be locked up, he's fucking his underage kid brother, for christ's sake, and, holy shit, he'll never see Daniel again, and he shouldn't be allowed to _anyway_ —but there's also a quiet whisper of, _at least I got to fuck him one last time_ , in the back of his mind, which, yeah. Doesn't exactly disprove their hypothetical accusations. 

But Lyla just huffs and rolls her eyes and throws the bags on the coffee table in front of the couch like Sean isn't already planning his last words, because _no way_ will dad or Lyla let him off so easily and just give him over into police custody. They'll probably take justice into their own hands and kill him themselves, make a bury-the-body-together pact that will tie them together forever, and at least dad'll get a good replacement daughter that won't fuck her little brother out of the whole thing. And they'll probably tell Daniel Sean got eaten by zombies or something, and Daniel will just think it's the coolest thing ever.

"Jesus, guys," Lyla says, "you're so fucking lazy. Could have at least unpacked some shit instead of sitting your fat asses down and doing nothing like the overgrown couch potatoes you are, you know? God, you're gonna grow roots on that thing before I know it." 

Sean's relieved for all of two seconds, because looks like he's not about to do jail time quite yet—until he recognizes the soft cotton between his toes and throws his foot back so fast, it's actually a little hilarious that he didn't dislocate his ankle or something. 

Lyla throws him a look, but he just smiles sheepishly back, hand on his neck. So she eyes Daniel instead, and Daniel feeds her his little-boy angel smile, the same one he's used on her since he was six and gap-toothed, and she still eats it up like she has back then. Sean's glad for it, because he's desperately trying to shove Daniel's boxers under the couch with his foot, and he hopes, _hopes_ Lyla won't drop anything that'll inevitably lead to her looking under the couch before he can hide it somewhere else or they're so, so screwed.

(Later, Lyla's back turned to them, Daniel will lean over, close enough for Sean to remember that he's _still not wearing any underwear, fuck_ , and he'll put his lips right up against Sean's ear, little constantly-gotta-push-boundaries brat that he is, and whisper, "Yeah, growing roots sounds about right. Already planted the _seeds_ , haven't we, bro?")

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact but potatoes don't actually have seeds or roots, they have stems called stolons. but for the sake of this fic we're gonna pretend Daniel doesn't know that, which, to be fair, he most likely really doesn't, considering he's a seventeen year old teen that's not exactly interested in agriculture
> 
> this story got _me_ oddly interested in agriculture, though


End file.
